The Eye of Zoltar

‘I’ve got a feeling the Prin— I mean, Laura’s not that good at ironing,’ I said, guessing that she’d not be able to identify an iron in a line-up of fruit. ‘How far is it to Llangurig?’

‘By road, about thirty miles,’ replied Wilson, ‘half that if we cut across country. But one thing’s for certain—’

‘We don’t want to spend a night in the open.’

‘Right.’

I walked to the other side of the road, picked up a stone and chucked it as far into the Empty Quarter as I could in a pointless display of anger and frustration.

I had entrusted the care of the expedition to a twelve-year-old who had lost Perkins to a group of bandits and then failed to rescue him, leaving Perkins at the mercy of Emperor Tharv and a possible – no, probable relaunch of his Thermowizidrical Device project. I had lost the Princess entrusted to my care and then woefully underestimated Curtis’ greed, and given him a reason to abandon us to our deaths in the middle of the Empty Quarter, the most dangerous place in the Cambrian Empire, which is, in turn, the most dangerous place in the unUnited Kingdoms.

Terrific.

I think Ralph and Wilson sensed my anger and frustration, for they held back on the other side of the road for five minutes, then walked over to join me.

‘Well now,’ said Wilson, who seemed to have an overwhelming capacity for optimism in the face of unrelenting failure, ‘I expect a lift may be along soon.’

‘Between when we stopped last night and right now,’ I asked, ‘how many vehicles have passed us?’

‘Well, none,’ said Wilson, ‘but that’s not to say they won’t. And although the Empty Quarter is the most dangerous place to be, we’re not actually in the most dangerous place in it. Or at least, not quite. And we should count our blessings that we’re still alive.’

‘Whoop-de-doo,’ I replied sarcastically, staring at the ground, ‘happy days.’

‘Dan-jer!’ said Ralph in a sharp, urgent tone. I looked around but could not see where the danger lay. But Wilson could.

‘Don’t move,’ he whispered.

‘Hotax?’

‘Sadly, no. Something much worse. Remember a second ago when I said we should count our blessings that we’re still alive?’

‘I remember that, yes.’

‘I … I might have spoken too soon.’

A brush with death

I stared in the direction in which Ralph and Wilson were staring, but could see nothing. The Empty Quarter was living up to the ‘empty’ part of its name surprisingly well.

‘I can’t see anything,’ I whispered.

‘Moribundus carnivorum,’ said Wilson in a low voice, ‘moving in from the north-west.’

‘Mori … what?’ I whispered back.

‘Moribundus carnivorum. A Lifesucker. It is nourished not by the energy and proteins, fats and starches within life forms, but the very essence of life itself.’

I looked again. There was nothing visible in the direction Wilson was pointing except a rabbit, nibbling the grass about thirty feet away, and steadfastly ignoring us.

‘You mean the rabbit?’

‘The rabbit? No, of course not the rabbit. I mean behind the rabbit.’

‘I can’t see anything behind the rabbit. Except …’

My voice trailed off as I saw the Lifesucker. Or at least, I didn’t actually see it, but the effect it had on the grass as it slowly crept up on the rabbit. Where all around us the grass was bright and green and lush, there was a trail of brown and withered grass advancing slowly towards the rabbit like a gravy stain on a tablecloth. The brown stain of death was no more than six inches wide, and as the rabbit stopped nibbling and looked around cautiously, the encroaching area of dead grass stopped and waited.

‘I see it now,’ I whispered, ‘it’s stalking the rabbit.’

‘It usually takes bigger prey than that,’ Wilson whispered back. ‘Must be hungry – it will take one of us if it picks up on our scent.’

‘We can outrun it, surely?’

‘Outrun death?’ said Wilson, eyebrows raised. ‘I think not.’

I turned my attention back to the approaching patch of dead grass behind the rabbit. When the Lifesucker was about a foot away from the unwitting creature, it pounced. The rabbit didn’t know what was happening at first. It seemed shocked and made to run, but then faltered, convulsed for a moment, tipped on its side and twitched a few times before lying still.

‘Sh-ook,’ said Ralph, who, like us, was staring intently at the now-dead rabbit. The Lifesucker didn’t only steal life, though, it seemed to strip away many of life’s associated functions: warmth, moisture and beauty. In less than a minute the rabbit had aged and withered until it was nothing more than patchy fur stretched tautly across a dry skeleton.

‘I’ve not seen anything like—’

‘Shh!’ said Wilson. ‘It’s strongest when freshly nourished. It will be hunting for more prey – I’ve seen one take an entire herd of sheep before finally collapsing into a gorged stupor. If you can push anything charismatic and life-confirming to the back of your mind and fill your head with thoughts of utter banality, now’s the time to it.’

‘How do I do that?’