The Eye of Zoltar

‘The metal lead?’ said Perkins, who was having trouble grasping this.

‘Yes, the metal lead.’

‘And where was this?’ asked Lady Mawgon, who suddenly seemed interested.

‘The Eye of Zoltar was apparently seen around … the neck of Sky Pirate Wolff.’

Up until now everyone had been hanging on Kevin’s every word, but as soon as he mentioned Wolff, everyone sighed and threw up their arms in exasperation.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ said Moobin sceptically, ‘if there is a tall story kicking around, then fourteen pence to a pound Captain Wolff will be at the bottom of it.’

I knew of Captain Wolff, of course – everyone did. She was a mythical figure, also of Grade III ‘really not very likely at all’ status, who had more wild stories attached to her than almost anyone on the planet. She was blamed for many acts of aerial piracy but never caught, and sightings of her were sporadic, sketchy and prone to exaggeration. It was said that she had tamed a Cloud Leviathan personally, which is a bit like saying you rode a Zebricorn into battle after catching one. The Leviathan, an aircraft-sized flying creature of obscure origins, was seen only rarely, and photographed just once, about eight years before. The photograph was front-page news in the world’s newspapers and downgraded the Leviathan’s legendary status from Grade IV, ‘not very likely, to be honest’, to a Grade V: ‘okay, some basis in fact, but still partly unexplained’.

It was also speculated that Sky Pirate Wolff’s hideout was in the legendary Leviathans’ Graveyard, the place where Cloud Leviathans go to die, reputedly located somewhere on the misty heights of the mountain known as Cadair Idris. The facts were all a bit hazy, but if Wolff were somehow real, this is how she’d want it – and Wolff’s skill at taming a Leviathan would explain the ease with which she could apparently capture entire jetliners on the wing, the loss of the liner Tyrannic and even the capture and destruction of Cloud City Nimbus III, where every man and woman was made to walk the plank – it rained Cloud City citizens for weeks, some say.

‘Sky Pirate Wolff doesn’t exist,’ said Moobin. ‘It’s more likely the Tyrannic was lost at sea, no one knows what happened to Nimbus III, and as for pirates boarding jetliners, it’s more probable the scallywags stowed themselves aboard inside the wheel-wells.’

There then started an argument about whether the legendary pirate existed or not, whether it was safe or even possible to hide oneself in wheel-wells, and the wisdom of chasing after Grade IV legends and half-truths told by Able Quizzler, an old man driven insane by a quest that had dominated his life.

‘Okay, okay,’ I yelled above the arguing, ‘let’s all just calm down. Kevin, finish your story, please.’

‘Last time we spoke, Able Quizzler told me that the Eye of Zoltar was within his grasp. I think it’s a lead worth pursuing.’

‘When and where was this?’ asked Lady Mawgon.

‘Six years ago, in a place called Llangurig. But I trust Able. We go back a while.’

Everyone went quiet.

‘Llangurig is well inside the Cambrian Empire,’ observed Moobin, ‘in a region notorious for bandits, wild beasts, emulating slime mould and other perils. It’s too dangerous.’

‘So is fighting Shandar,’ I said. ‘Where’s the harm in travelling to Llangurig to see if I can find Quizzler? After all, the refund isn’t due for another month – and I could negotiate for Boo’s release at the same time.’

This had an effect on the gathering, but before we could discuss it further there was a whooshing of wings and some brief bickering, and two dark shapes flew by the window.

‘That’s just what we need,’ said Lady Mawgon, ‘a couple of infants.’

And with a clattering at the window, two Dragons attempted to get in at the same time. They elbowed each other petulantly, breaking the window frame and panes of glass as they did so.

‘Hey!’ I said in my loudest voice, and they suddenly went silent. I was about the only one who could control them.

‘Cut it out, you two – what happened to that bit where Dragons were creatures of great dignity, learning and wisdom?’

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ said Colin, removing one of his iPod earbuds. ‘I was listening to the Doobie Brothers.’

The Dragons

The two Dragons I found myself vaguely responsible for were called Feldspar Axiom Firebreath IV, and Colin. They were each the size of a pony, and were decidedly reptilian in appearance, manner and gait. They had long jaws with serrated teeth, ornate head frills, a long barbed tail and explosively flammable breath. Their wings were a triumph of design in that when they were unfolded they took up the entire room and were as translucent as tissue paper, but when folded fitted neatly into dimples on their backs. They had muscular arms and legs, both of which carried sharp talons that needed to be clipped often as they would otherwise damage the hotel’s parquet flooring.