The Eye of Zoltar

I was awoken by a faint noise from outside the cave. I looked at my watch only to discover that a sword-cut the day before had removed the face and hands. I nudged the Princess, who mumbled something like: ‘No,no, Nursey, a pedicure at ten, I said,’ before turning over and going back to sleep. I looked for Addie but her bedroll was empty, and I found her crouching silently at the cave entrance, watching. It was painful when I moved, as all the cuts and nicks I’d received stung horribly.

‘Who’s outside?’ I whispered.

‘The Mountain Silurians,’ Addie whispered back.

‘Let’s see what they want,’ I said, getting up. ‘They know we’re here, and after yesterday, I’m not sure much really scares me any more.’

We stepped out from behind the rhododendrons to find three warriors upon Buzonjis silently waiting for us.

‘Greetings on this day,’ I said, ‘and all respects be upon you. But if you mean to kill us, then be quick about it. We have faced more death in the past twenty-four hours than we would care to see in a lifetime, so do it now or go about your business and leave us to ours.’

‘We’re not here to kill you,’ said the middle warrior and the larger of the three, ‘we are here to bring Geraint the Great’s word of congratulations. He salutes the brave warriors who have faced the Cavi homini and returned, and thanks you also for the goat thing, which looks like sound financial advice. He deems you worthy of being called his sisters, and grants you free access upon our lands and the full protection of the Mountain Silurians, wherever you might be.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘good.’

‘Then you accept?’ asked the warrior.

‘Do we?’ I asked Addie.

‘Hell, yes,’ said Addie enthusiastically. ‘An honorary sister of Geraint the Great? You’ll never have to queue in Tesco’s again. And that’s just for starters. Never mind all the other fringe benefits of being affiliated to the most terrifying warrior tribe in the whole of the Kingdoms.’

‘I don’t shop at Tesco’s,’ said the Princess, who had arrived behind us. ‘In fact,’ she added, ‘I don’t think I shop at all.’

‘Laura Scrubb will have all the benefits when you return her body,’ I said. ‘Perhaps it might make up for the lost hand.’

‘You’re right,’ said the Princess, ‘I’m totally in.’

The warrior on the left slipped expertly from his Buzonji and asked us to sit down. An induction into the Mountain Silurians’ affiliation was designated by a tattoo, in their case a small blue star on the right temple. It took about twenty minutes each, and after leaving us with an elegantly bound book of eligible bachelors within the tribe and three offers of marriage for ‘The Fearless Tour Guide Addie Powell’, the warriors remounted their Buzonjis and were gone.

‘Mum will be furious I’ve had a tattoo,’ said the Princess, looking at the livid red mark in the half-track’s wing mirror. ‘Yes, I know it’s technically not on me. It’s just that I’ve got so used to this body I’m not really sensing much of a difference. In a strange way, I’m actually enjoying being Laura Scrubb.’

We had a good wash in the waterfall before taking a half-hour to tension the half-track’s tracks, as was insisted upon in the rental hire agreement. I even checked the oil and refilled the radiator with water.

We repacked, climbed in, checked Rubber Colin’s straps were still secure, and headed off down the Llangurig road.

‘Do you think Laura has had as interesting a time in my body as I have in hers?’ said the Princess, who had been thoughtful for some time.

‘I’m thinking almost certainly,’ I replied.

‘I’m going to free her,’ she said, ‘with a generous pension. In fact, I’m going to free all the orphans working in the palace. And when I become Queen I’m abolishing this whole bullshit orphan-based economy. The trade in orphans ends under me – the fast-food joints and hotel industry will just have to figure it out another way.’

I smiled. Things were looking good for the Kingdom of Snodd, and for orphans in general. Queen Mimosa had been right to send her daughter out with us, even if by every other measure the trip had been an abject failure.

‘Maybe that’s why we have the Troll Wars,’ mused the Princess, who was turning out to be a lot less wooden-headed than I had first thought, ‘to supply the orphan-based economy with orphans.’

‘It’s crossed my mind many times,’ I said.

We came within sight of Llangurig at that point, and I was suddenly aware that the past few days, adventurous though they had been, had not helped us one atom in our fight against the Mighty Shandar. In fact, since we’d lost Perkins and Colin was still rubber, we were actually worse off.

We found Llangurig a ghost town. The arrival of the railway had taken away its geographic relevance, and only a handful of residents remained, there because they loved it, and none of us had any issue with that.

We had lunch in the Bluebell and all of us ate two main courses, and sponge pudding to finish. Cadair Idris has that effect.