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Listen, will you keep quiet? I don’t think they’re watching now, but they could look over at any moment and there’s no way that I’m going through that again. I’ll never be able to see spinach without blushing.
And you were so fiery beforehand! What’s the matter with you, woman?
There’s nothing we can do but follow instructions. Is it my fault that you’re in my head? You saw what happened when I tried fighting against them!
I rather enjoyed it, actually.
Oh, be quiet. It’s my body, so we do as I say.
You know, I was under the impression you were having the time of your life. You don’t appreciate a little affliction? A little bit of shame, of guilt? Spices life up considerably, I find.
Shut up. I’ve seen your mind, and I don’t like it. Let me get on with forming this damn thing, so we can get away and carry on with our lives.
Your life is better than this? Than being a god? Than controlling these idiots in their dreamland, this fairy tale? Mine isn’t. I’m going to make this last for as long as I possibly can.
Well, guess what? I’m in control! So why don’t you be quiet and carry on watching from that corner whilst I continue? That would be the most helpful thing for you to do at the moment…
Who said anything about help? You know, everything I ever dreamed about can happen in here without fear of retaliation. No harm will come to me, no matter what I do.
So you’re willing to watch me suffer for your deeds? I think it’s about time you got out of here. Let me give you a little push…
Damn.
‘Damn’ is rather the understatement, don’t you think? If I go, so does most of your mental fabric. You’d make a good drooling idiot, but you make a better slave.
Now hold on one minute-
I’ve had enough of watching. It’s my turn to hold the controls now. My go! And unless you want to be psychically lobotomised, I suggest you shut the hell up and take a back seat. That’s right.
I’ll get you for this.
There’s nothing that you can do to me that I wouldn’t enjoy. Shh, calm down. All that spit is spoiling the wallpaper.
You’re going to ruin everything, I know it. Oh, no, they’re coming!
So they are. Allow me…?
Hey! What are you doing?
Nothing. Just … ah, got it. Now, keep quiet, or I’ll rip your mind apart myself.
We were under the impression your uncooperative ways were cured, young lady. I see no progress in your task. Perhaps the cauliflower again…?
A good artist takes a moment to visualise the image in his head before he puts it to paper. There’s no difference here.
You sound different. Maybe you’re more damaged than I thought. Please keep in line, else we’ll have to bring the other one in again, and none of us want to have to deal with him again, do we?
Indeed we don’t. Now, if you’ll allow me…?
Be my guest.
“That’s that done, then,” Vikie said, rising up and wiping her hands. She had been examining Iyzor for internal bleeding, in the process finding and detaching a small metallic object fastened to the Wizard’s body, by whom she didn't know, and his bony chest seemed to be rising and falling at much more of a regular rate than previously as a result. He was still weak though, and the dull pain in his head had intensified rather than dying down. Lifting his head slightly, he tried to mouth a thanks, but managed only a thread of drool instead. Unfazed, the Queen wiped it away efficiently. She held a battered pan to the old Wizard’s mouth and he drank greedily, slurping the foul-tasting broth down into his stomach where it dislodged a pocket of air, loudly forcing its way out. He turned away in shame, not noticing the grin that Vikie restrained. She was about to say something, to assuage his embarrassment, but then Carnif’x entered the room, returning from a foray to a nearby storeroom.
Since leaving the dungeon, they had not gone far due to Iyzor’s extra weight. The alarm had gone up fairly quickly, and every so often the yell of a guard reverberated down the bowels of the Tower to their hiding place, a disused training room still full of rusting and mostly broken swords. A peculiar stench hung there, like nothing any of them had experienced before, beyond description. It frightened Vikie in a primordial manner that she could not fathom, as though the very stuff of her nightmares had materialised and was now laying before her, repulsive yet strangely attractive. Much like the old Wizard, she thought fondly, gazing down on his lined face. Although in her home country the Queen had had many admirers, she had not yet discovered the one of legend who would carry her off on into the sunset, as the old books her nurse used to read to her described.
Carnif’x spoke, bringing her back to reality. “Supplies are running low,” she said, looking with distaste at the murky soup they had been surviving on. It was an ugly grey colour, and just beneath the surface floated lumps that she would rather not think about. “Was there nothing there?” Vikie asked plaintively.
“Nothing. All the food in this section has been moved closer to the top of the Tower, for some reason,” Carnif’x replied.
“Is it us?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But we can’t stay here for much longer. This place is a trap in every way imaginable, and the more time we spend here, the harder it’ll be to get out.”
“But Iyzor-“
“The Wizard’s going to have to take his chances. We’d have a much better chance of survival if we left him here, and if I think he’s threatening our escape in any way possible, I’m going to dump him.”
Iyzor waved a hand in the air, and both women flinched as their bones moved slightly inside them. “I can be useful,” he said slowly, breathing deeply after each word. He tried to rise, but fell over heavily, knocking the pan over and spilling its contents all over Carnif’x’s boot. A few drops hit the object that Vikie had removed from him, and it suddenly squeaked in pain, rolling over on itself to get as far as it could from the puddle. Slowly as they watched, it uncurled, and a pair of small eyes peeked out at them. Carnif’x reached out a hand, making it squeak again in alarm, and scuttle backwards until it was out of reach where it stopped, and the eyes regarded them again. Iyzor opened his fist, waving the fingers in a strange motion, and it flew into his hand. Grasping it tightly, he motioned furiously for the others to find something to hold it in. All of a sudden it stopped struggling, and began to emit a high-pitched noise that steadily grew higher and higher until none of them could bear it. Just as their eardrums started to vibrate in agony, it exploded in a cloud of smoke, making the Wizard cry out in pain. When the smoke had cleared, they saw that the explosion had taken most of his arm with it.
To be continued…
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