The Eye of Zoltar

I took my indentured servitude papers out of my pocket. I had two years to run at Kazam and after that I was free – or free to sell myself for another year or two, or whatever I wanted.

‘I’ll give you a year of me,’ I said. ‘I work hard and learn quick. That’s got to be worth two thousand any day of the week.’

The shopkeeper looked at my orphan papers and stared at me suspiciously.

‘There’s something I’m missing here,’ she said. ‘No one in their right mind would swap a year of themselves for a rubber Dragon – unless …’

Her voice trailed off as a look of sudden realisation crossed her face. All of a sudden, she knew. A Dragon – any Dragon, in any condition, transformed or otherwise – would be worth a thousand orphan years. The cat was now out of the bag, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I could have tried to steal Rubber Colin but wasn’t sure how far I’d get with something I could barely lift, and besides, this was Llangurig, and it was perfectly legal to have a weapon hidden beneath the counter, and doubly legal – encouraged, actually – to use it on shoplifters. We stared at one another for a moment in silence.

I took back my indentured papers and pushed the eight hundred plotniks and an IOU for a further twelve hundred across the counter. We weren’t bargaining any longer. I was going to tell her how it was.

‘This for the rubber Dragon. Take it or we take him and you get nothing.’

‘And how do you propose to take him?’ she asked, her hand reaching under the counter.

‘I have a sorcerer outside who can transform him back to a living, breathing and very angry Dragon in a twinkling,’ I said. ‘I know Colin personally, and believe me, he won’t be happy to have been turned into rubber. Take the money. It’s the best you’re going to get.’

‘You can’t threaten me,’ she replied defiantly. ‘The law is on my side.’

I leaned forward and lowered my voice.

‘And magic is on mine. Which do you think the more powerful?’

We stared at one another for a moment until, finally, she saw sense.

‘Looks like you’re the owner of a rubber Dragon,’ she said, taking the money and the IOU.

‘A wise choice,’ I said in a quiet voice, ‘but there’s one other thing: I need a hand trolley.’

A few minutes later I had loaded Rubber Colin on to the trolley and was wheeling him along the street, Perkins at my side, steadying the rubber creature, which wobbled about all over the place in a very undignified manner. It was about the size of a pony, but weighed, thankfully, only about a tenth as much.

We stumbled to the North Gate, where Addie, Wilson and the Princess were waiting next to a battered jeep that was attached to a trailer that contained eight ‘barter quality’ goats.

‘I’m not going to ask where you found that,’ said Addie, pointing at Rubber Colin, ‘but it’s going to be a tight fit.’

It was a tight fit. Ridiculously so. But with Rubber Colin in the back of the open jeep, Wilson and Perkins on either side of him and with me and the Princess sharing the passenger seat, we could just about fit in. Addie coaxed the jeep into life.

‘Is Perkins okay?’ asked Addie. ‘He looks kind of … old.’

‘He’s fine,’ I said, even though he wasn’t, not really. ‘Let’s just drive.’

So we did. We took the rough unmade road towards Cadair Idris and after an hour had passed we knew that the Princess’s pardon was now official, and she was free.

We drove in almost unparalleled discomfort for another two hours until we reached a waterfall, where Addie knew there was a dry cave hidden behind some rhododendron bushes. We stopped and then sat in silence for some time, not moving, the eight goats bleating plaintively as they weren’t used to being in a trailer and could smell the water. It had been a worrying afternoon, and the positive outcome of the trial notwithstanding, we could all feel the stress within the small group. We ignored one another for the forty minutes it took to settle in the cave, all of us working at our chores without talking. I chased out a boogaloo that had taken refuge while Addie and the Princess went to tether the goats near the river, and Perkins and Wilson wandered off to look for fireberries. Colin stayed in the back of the jeep, his lifeless rubber eyes staring unseeing into the gathering gloom.

We reconvened when the fireberries were ignited, the daylight had gone and the supper was about ready. It was Spam, but everyone was too tired to complain.

It was the Princess who finally broke the silence.

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘all of you. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’

‘You should thank Perkins,’ said Addie, pointing to where he was sitting on a stone farther back in the cave. He looked preoccupied and in that sort of dark place where you shun companionship, but are secretly glad when someone forces it upon you.

‘Did he give more of himself?’ asked the Princess anxiously. ‘In years, I mean?’

I nodded.

‘Over twenty.’

‘Oh,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I must speak with him.’