adventures

couple of animated versions when she was a child, but they had differed from each other on vital
details. It was probably fortunate that they were trapped in such a flexible genre. If this world had
been based on Shakespeare's sonnets, for example, they'd have been theeing and thussing for
ever, without any leg room at all. Wolsey forged ahead of the party. He turned around. 'It's getting
dark in here.'
'That's all right,' Candy called, fishing in her pockets. 'I'm carrying a torch.'
'No surprises there,' muttered Bitchy.
The dame pulled a thick piece of wood from her voluminous dress and slapped it in the palm of
her hand. 'Wait a moment. Ah. There!' She flicked a piece of bark from one position to another,
and the torch burst into flame.
The party carried on down the tunnel. Bernice was certain that Wolsey was trying to ignore
her, until he slowed down slightly and murmured to her. 'Bernice . . . I'm new at seeing this
strange world of mine from the outside, as you do, but doesn't it occur to you that this is
somehow a . . . strange experience?'
'Strange? In what way?'
'Not sure. I thought you would know. Forget it.'
He moved on. Bernice was considering his words when he stopped suddenly. 'Oh my . . .' he
purred. 'I think you'd better all come and have a look at this.'
The others pushed forward. They'd come to the edge of a large cavern. A narrow pathway led
across it to a door on the far side. On all sides of the cavern, however, were strewn piles of glittering
jewels, gems and valuable baubles of all kinds. There were many fortunes of them, lying in
heaps, apparently discarded, glittering in the flickering light of the torch.
'Bagsee the tiara,' said Bitchy, diving forward.
'Stop.' Bernice caught the dwarf by her collar and pulled her back into the group. 'So this little
lot has been sitting around, unguarded, at the end of a short tunnel, for a very long time without
anybody ever taking it?'
'Stranger things have happened,' said Lazy, shrugging. 'Like that business with the transvestite
wolf.'
'He was a cross-dressing wolf who was only expressing himself as a predator,' muttered Liberal.
'It wasn't your granny that he ate!' huffed Laddish. 'OK, so it wasn't mine either, but –'
'Quiet!' snapped Bernice. 'The long and the short of it . . .' She caught Moody's eye. 'I mean,
the point of it is: we cross the bridge without touching any of the easily accessible riches.
Agreed?'
They all mumbled terse agreement. Wolsey stepped aside and Bernice led them across.
Surprisingly, they made it to the other side. A short stretch of darker corridor followed and
then they found themselves suddenly . . .
Outside.
No, Bernice realized, they weren't outside. They were in an area where ruddy stormclouds
appeared to sweep overhead, purple ones below, billowing about their feet. Firestorms and
streaks of lightning split the air with fearsome flashes. The effect was quite disorientating, and
Wolsey instinctively fell on to all fours. Bernice half expected him to vanish into the clouds around
their feet, but thankfully he found support. He was standing on a series of piled stones, arranged
like stepping stones across a river. Bernice glanced over her shoulder. The others were bravely
standing at the entrance, waiting to see what happened to the two of them. 'It's all right,' she
called. 'These are just illusions, designed to scare us away or make us fall. Keep to the stone
pathway and you'll be fine.' Through the clouds ahead, she could just about glimpse an archway in
the far wall.
'Illusions, eh?' Wolsey murmured. He pulled up an object from beneath the clouds, something
he'd obviously found on the walkway, and pointed it at Bernice. 'So what's this, and where did it
come from?'
Bernice raised her hands. 'Wolsey, that is what we call a dirty great gun. Please don't press or
squeeze anything.'
Wolsey turned it away from her, gazing at it, an intense expression on his face. 'It speaks to
me of my former life.'