The Eye of Zoltar

I looked out. On the road ahead someone had painted ‘SORRY’ in large letters.

‘Hunker down,’ shouted Addie and we all did as she said. The half-track had a large armoured flap that could be swung down in front of the windscreen in case of attack. Addie reached up and released the catch; the flap swung down with a bang, leaving me a small slot to see through. A second or two later the first bullet hit the armoured half-track, followed by a second, then a third.

‘Don’t stop,’ said Addie.

I did as she asked, and the air was suddenly heavy with the crack of rifle fire and the metallic spang of bullets as they bounced off.

‘Okay,’ said Addie as if we were doing nothing more unusual than driving through heavy hail, ‘here’s the plan: we’ll enter the Empty Quarter presently and stay at the Claerwin reservoir tonight; they have some Pod-poles. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll reach Llangurig and visit your friend. We’ll stay the night there and then head off into mountain Silurian territory to get to the foot of Cadair Idris. We’ll search for the Leviathans’ Graveyard on its rocky slopes until you give up – which you will, because the graveyard doesn’t exist – and then return.’

‘Good plan,’ I said, ‘although our movements really depend on what my friend in Llangurig says – I’m not mad keen on going any farther if I don’t have to.’

I wasn’t wildly keen on climbing the mountain. Cadair Idris was known not just for its stark beauty – a soaring pinnacle of sheer rock almost six thousand feet in height, the highest in the Cambrian range – but for the number of people who had vanished on its rocky slopes. Despite numerous expeditions, no one had reached the summit in modern times, or if they had, no one had returned. I’d risk our lives if there was a chance of finding the Eye of Zoltar, but not if there wasn’t.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Addie, mistaking my silence for nerves, ‘Cadair Idris will be fun.’

‘Ever been there?’

‘No. That’s why it will be fun.’

As we drove on, the rifle fire slowly diminished, and after a minute it stopped completely, and Addie gave us the all-clear so we could raise our heads above the armoured body of the half-track.

‘What was that?’ asked Perkins.

‘What was what?’

‘The rifle fire?’

‘Oh, that. I don’t know. A local warlord who is annoyed they built a bypass around his village. It’s cut travel times by a third and reduced congestion, but it also means he can’t extract money from travellers – so he fires on any car that passes. It’s nothing really serious.’

‘Unless you’re not in an armoured car,’ said Perkins.

‘But everyone is,’ said Addie simply. ‘Take the next left and continue on for about twenty miles.’

The half-track was neither fast nor quiet, so to conserve fuel and our eardrums I drove as slowly as practical, and we spent the time taking in the spectacular local countryside. The nation was utterly unspoilt. There were almost no modern buildings, shopping malls or fast-food joints, and no advertising hoardings, electricity pylons or other modern contrivances. Once away from the almond groves, broadleaf forests covered much of the lowlands, and the small houses dotted haphazardly about were constructed of stone with riveted steel roofs, and all were in some manner fortified.

‘What’s a Somnubuvorus?’ asked the Princess, who had been reading Enjoy the unspoilt charms of the Cambrian Empire without death or serious injury.

‘It looks like a cross between a baobab and a turnip,’ explained Addie, ‘and about the size of a telephone box. It’s actually not a plant at all, but a fungus that releases puffs of hallucinogenic spores into the breeze. Anyone who inhales them suddenly becomes convinced that being near the Somnubuvorus will enlighten and enrich them with hard-hitting and devastatingly relevant social and political commentary. Then, of course, you are soon overcome with a sense of listlessness and torpidity, and fall fast asleep.’

‘It sounds like what would happen if you weaponised French cinema,’ I observed.

‘Yes, pretty much, only French cinema doesn’t secrete enzymes from its roots and dissolve you while you sleep.’

‘Yag,’ said the Princess, and returned to the book.

I had a thought.

‘Why did the gunners shoot down Col— I mean, that Dragon just before we left?’

‘That’s easily explained,’ said Addie. ‘Emperor Tharv deplores mankind’s need to defy gravity so he’s banned all aerial traffic above his Empire. But because he wants to be equitable and just in all matters, he thinks that it would be unfair if birds, bats, insects and so forth were allowed to fly – so he banned them, too.’

‘And that included Dragons?’