Dark Tidings: Ancient Magic Meets the Internet Book 1 (16 page)

“And here we are now,” he concluded.

He was really chuffed with his storytelling and he didn’t much care that Madrick and Faith had been soundly, and in Madrick’s case noisily, asleep long before he’d even got to the escape from Mifal’s dungeon. Michael, on the other hand, had managed to stay partially awake for the whole tale. However, he was so befuddled with champagne that the whole evening had taken on a dream like quality, but there was something about Tung and his saga which was going to stick in his mind.

‘This could be the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me’ was his final thought before he passed out on the plush leather sofa.

They all woke up the next day dreadfully hung-over and feeling absolutely horrible. Madrick was the first to waken and he, Mr Sensible as usual, ordered breakfast for four. By the time room service arrived, everyone was conscious; more or less.

They all re-introduced themselves and reflected on what they remembered from the night before. They spread out the breakfast and all started to enjoy the relief which the fruit juice, assorted toast and fried food offered; the fried food in particular seemed to hit the mark and ease the pain.

Madrick, Michael and Faith all showered (individually) while Tung dozed some more. By the time midday rolled around, everyone was feeling relatively human again. Each one of them was trying hard to remember what they’d said the night before, and what the others had said.

Eventually they started talking again and collectively congratulating each other on the wonderful party experience they’d all created. They were, however, far too fragile to enjoy this inevitable morning after.

“I feel like the proverbial newspaper in the birdcage of life,” said Michael trying to lighten the mood.

Tung and Madrick looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. Michael wondered why he was getting such puzzled looks. He didn’t realise how crazy it seemed to them to put something as valuable as paper in the bottom of a birdcage. Michael was disappointed that his joke had fallen so flat, but he assumed it was because hangovers were dulling everyone’s senses of humour, so he let it lie.

“We definitely overdid it last night. What started off fairly calmly ended up in a massive binge. We’re all hurting a bit. I guess you could say we’ve all suffered minor binjuries.”

No one even smiled. Maybe they’re suffering from major binjuries, he thought.

“Guys, we need to go to work. How about we meet again this evening and see how a more sober encounter works?”

“Okay, we’ll see you in the restaurant at six?”

“Sounds good to me, see you later.”

On that note, Michael and Faith headed off to work. Madrick settled in front of the television to absorb more of the twenty-first century and Tung, naturally, went back to bed.

All the way to the office, Michael and Faith talked excitedly about the evening of champagne, partying and chat. They were in no doubt that they should go back to the restaurant and meet again with the two, rather strange, individuals. It had genuinely been fun and Michael sensed there was something intriguingly interesting about the pair. Neither of them had any memory of Tung’s incredible tale although there was some remnant of the story in Michael’s head; a remnant which he just couldn’t pin down. It had the evasiveness of a half remembered dream and the more he tried to recall it, the more it faded away. He let it go, the bank was just round the corner.

“You’re sure your friend will have covered for you okay? We’re pretty late.”

“Yeah, I phoned her earlier and, ahmmm, explained. I’ll be fine. What about you?”

“I work so many late nights, no one worries what time I come in at.”

There were nearly at the front entrance. Michael grabbed her elbow and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“See you after work, have a good day.”

As it turned out, Faith was far too ill to go out that night, indeed she left work early complaining of ‘food poisoning’. Michael also had a gut feeling, but his wasn’t caused by food poisoning. His gut was telling him he should meet the strange pair again, so he decided to go alone.

He arrived at the Ritz shortly after six o’clock. His new friends were nowhere to be seen so he settled into a large leather armchair and ordered a coffee. Tung and Madrick arrived before the coffee did. They nodded awkwardly at each other because everyone was a bit unsure how this was going to pan out.

“Let’s adjourn to the restaurant and get some food under our belts. Then we can see who remembers most about last night.”

“Food’s always good,” said Tung. “Let’s go eat.”

After the small talk which accompanied the meal, Madrick launched into a short spiel about how they were strangers in these parts. It was a well practised speech which had served him well up to now.

“And we’ve no close acquaintances here,” he added. “And we’ve got no one who we can fully trust. We want, no, we need to forge some lasting friendships otherwise we’re not going to be able to fit in.”

He didn’t expand on the reasons why. He didn’t want to share that for now.

“I’m honoured that you consider me as a potential friend after such a short time. The truth of the matter is I don’t have many close friends either… and a man without friends is like a day without sunshine.”

He didn’t expand on the reasons why he’d few friends either. He didn’t want to share that for now.

As the conversation progressed they shared more and more about each other and their aspirations. It got to the point where Madrick and Tung looked at each other and nodded conspiratorially.

Madrick had remembered enough from the night before to know that Michael had a guilty secret. He’d discussed it with Tung and they agreed if they had to share their secrets then they were best sharing with someone who also had things to hide. They needed an ally in this new century because, deep down, they both knew they couldn’t survive forever hiding in the Ritz.

“Come up to our suite, we’d like to tell you a bit more about us,” said Tung. “We have secrets and surprises which will blow your head.”

He meant ‘blow your mind’. He was trying to pick up the more modern way of speaking, but he wasn’t always one hundred percent successful.

“I’d like that,” said Michael. “I have something I’d like to share with you guys too.”

When they arrived in the suite they settled into the leather furnishings; interestingly each took the same seat as the night before. It was like some sort of déjà vu had followed them into the room.

“Fancy a glass of champagne?” said Tung. “There’s plenty left from our last party.”

“Why not, you only live once.”

“Okay, let me begin,” said Madrick, adopting the storytelling tone he’d used when he first met Tung. There was no small talk, no preamble, no scene-setting; he’d decided he should just go for it. Or rather, he’d decided that Tung should just go for it.

“We’ve chosen to trust you with an incredible secret. The story you’ll hear is all true but I’m pretty sure you won’t believe a word of it. Tung will tell you our tale because he’s a bit more entertaining than me.”

Tung was surprised, but he was glad because Madrick’s story telling technique was a bit dry and boring… like a dehydrated woodworm. So, in a repeat of the night before, he launched into his story of Mifal’s dungeon and the horror of what lay before him as he lay in that cell.

“And then the horror came to pass. I met Madrick.”

He was enjoying telling the tale and saw no reason not to pepper it with a little humour. Even Madrick smiled.

He talked about the Scroll and described some of the spells he’d created.

“The stallion was magnificent. The weather forecast was pointless… and wrong.”

“Still the same today,” agreed Michael. “But you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

Michael half said and half sung the last bit. Bob Dylan probably wouldn’t have been overly proud, but he certainly wouldn’t have disowned his song on account of this rendering. Madrick and Tung looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Blowin’ in the Wind,” he said before he realised he was merely compounding the problem. He signalled Tung to continue.

“Then I totally cracked it. I created a spell which could make us invisible, but there was a slight problem. Only our bodies and things inside us became invisible.”

“Yeah, that’s when I had to step in and save the day,” said Madrick. “I had to bear the pain of concealing the Scroll where the sun don’t shine.”

“Scotland?” said Michael.

“I think you know exactly where I mean,” said Madrick wriggling in his seat a little.

Tung wriggled a bit too in sympathy before he moved on to describe the escape, the chase, the chickens, bird man, thunderballs and time-travel.

“And now here we are,” he concluded.

Michael was experiencing a strange heard-it-all-before sensation. The weird déjà vu feeling which came from having this incredible tale stored somewhere deep in his subconscious made the story, for some reason, more believable. Well, less unbelievable maybe.

Michael stared at Tung and Madrick. He wasn’t sure what to make of what he’d just heard. Probably best not to ask any questions until he’d absorbed it a bit, so he decided to share his story while his subconscious processed things. He started to tell them about his skill with computers.

“You know this isn’t making any sense to us?”

He simplified his story.

“I work in a bank. It’s the richest bank in the world. I plan to steal all their money.”

“How will you carry it all? Where will you hide it?” asked Tung who, from a ‘professional’ point of view, was immediately interested in every detail of the theft.

“It’s not actual money that I’ll steal,” he began, however he stopped when he saw the bewildered looks were back. Could these people really be from the past?

“I’ll explain it all some other time. Tell me more about you guys. Exactly where are you from? Or should I say when? Your story is a bit strange to say the least. In fact it’s a bit hard to believe.”

Madrick realised how astonishing their tale must sound to someone who’d never come across magic. Maybe a demonstration would help convince Michael to believe their story.

“Take this pouch,” he said. “I’m going to prove to you that magic is real. Without looking inside, tell me how many coins there are.”

Michael felt the soft leather between his fingers and thumbs.

“Two, maybe three,” he said puzzled by the change in the conversation.

“There are two,” said Madrick. “Lift them out and have a look.”

Michael took the money out of the pouch and was immediately taken by the splendour of the large gold coins. They were in pristine condition and had identical dates which placed them at the turn of the first millennium. He held them up close to his eyes in an attempt to absorb every little detail. They were superbly crafted and absolutely immaculate.

“These are the most fabulous coins I have ever seen,” marvelled Michael. “They’re in such perfect condition. I could nearly believe they’re brand new rather than nearly a thousand years old.”

He was fascinated by the sheer beauty and he wondered where they’d got the coins. They could have come from anywhere. They could have been bought or stolen, either way this certainly didn’t prove the existence of magic.

“How many coins are in the bag?” asked Madrick.

“None,” replied Michael. “I have them both here in my hand.”

“Look again.”

Michael felt the pouch and was flabbergasted to find two more identical coins.

“Again,” said Madrick and again Michael pulled two more coins out of the bag. He examined the bag in minuscule detail, but there was no way to explain what was happening. He knew there was, in fact, only one possible explanation; it was genuine magic. And if this was real magic, then maybe the whole story was true.

Madrick watched him as he went through the thought process of trying to rationalise their incredible tale. He knew Michael was on the brink of belief, but he had no idea how to tip him over the edge. Maybe the brink was enough for now, only time would tell.

Michael was confused and a little bit disorientated. He’d been introduced to an unbelievable fantasy world yet he was convinced it was as real as anything else in his life. He knew he was going to have to totally realign his sense of the universe; he just hoped he was capable of making the mental leap.

He felt he’d been asked to believe something which previously, in his mind, was firmly and squarely in the domain of science fantasy. Of course he’d read tales of time travel, but come on, surely none of it is possible? Now though, after he’d been exposed to some genuine magic, there was no doubt in his mind that everything the old man had told him was as real as real can be. But come on, his logical brain screamed, there’s no way any of this can be happening. He was faced with the ultimate dilemma, he’d seen things which were patently true, however the explanations were completely unbelievable. The fact of the matter was there were no rational explanations at all.

His heart wanted to believe because that could open up the most exciting adventure ever. His head was having none of it. His head seemed incapable of accepting what was plain for the eye to see.

After a little time to reflect, he decided his best bet was to try to fully embrace the situation. He’d convince his head to accept what his heart was telling him. He needed to open his mind and see where things led him. If this fantastic story was even partially true then he had an unparalleled opportunity to influence how a major force of nature impacted on the world. This was way more important than his ‘destroy IIBE’ plan; this could be the way to fulfil his fantasy dream and change things on this decaying planet. This could be the ultimate opportunity to stick it to the bad guys.

“Well, what do you think? I know this will have come as a crazy shock to you, in fact you look like someone who’s been hit over the head with a poleaxe. Come on, say something.”

“I’m struggling with this. It’s just not… logical. I’m a great believer that you should avoid zebra thinking at all costs.”

“Zebra thinking?”

“Ignoring the obvious answer and making things too complicated. When you hear hooves coming up behind you, you should think horse, not zebra.”

He saw the confused look on their faces. His anecdote about keeping things simple was having exactly the opposite effect.

“You don’t know what a zebra is, do you?” said Michael disappointedly.

They both shook their heads.

“Basically it’s an animal which looks a lot like a horse with black and white stripes, but you only get them in Africa. We don’t have them in England, so the hooves you hear will probably belong to a horse. Look for the obvious answer.”

“And what’s the big difference between getting trampled by a horse and a zebra?” asked Tung.

Michael gave up with the explanation. He knew he’d been lucky to get away with mentioning ‘Africa’ never mind the other problems.

“I’m just saying there’s no obvious answer here. I need to think outside the box with this one.”

“Outside the box?” said Tung.

It was Madrick who put an end to it. There were times when it was best to let some of the modern expressions fly away over one’s head, and this was one of those times.

“Let’s take a break. We’re all tired.”

He was right, so Michael took a quick comfort break and by the time he got back, Tung had faded and gone back to bed.

“He says he’s suffering from hallucinations, but I think he’s just imagining it. I think last night has got the better of him and he needs more sleep.”

Madrick looked weary too, but he was still very much focused on Michael. He realised how important it was to bring Michael along with them. He needed a modern day ally.

“Do you think you can trust us? More important, do you think you can become our friend? What we have here is truly amazing and we need someone from this century to help us survive and thrive. Could you be that someone? Please, we’re asking you to be that somebody.”

Michael thought for a few seconds. This wasn’t a logic problem; logic wasn’t going to help him with the answer. He’d always relied on his ability to judiciously analyse all the possibilities of a situation and come up with the right course of action, but that wasn’t going to help him this time. This wasn’t a normal situation. This was a zebra outside the box.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “There’s so much to take on board in one go. My heart says embrace it and, funny enough, I guess so does a part of my head. The problem is the other part of my head is telling me that this whole thing is ridiculous. The other part of my head is holding me back. I want to go with this, I do.”

Suddenly, as if some switches had been flicked inside his head, he changed his mind. There were still doubts, but the part of his head which had been stamping on this lunacy seemed to have unilaterally surrendered and given up on the argument. He felt a sudden surge of relief and contentment.

“I’m going to force myself to go with this. It’s incredibly strange, just like most of life, I guess. Let’s toast life’s mysteries and our newly formed friendship. I’m game to sign up to this adventure whatever it is and wherever it leads us. Here’s to magic scrolls and dreams coming true. Here’s to us and a better world… chink-chink.”

“With our combined efforts, the sky is the limit,” said Madrick.

“Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit, I know there are footsteps on the moon,” replied Michael.

He loved this expression and, for the first time, it seemed genuinely appropriate. Madrick looked utterly and totally confused, then Michael realised yet again just how much Madrick didn’t know about the modern world. The moon landing was probably far beyond his ancient mentality for now. One small step for a man was definitely one giant leap too far for Madrick.

There was an extended pause as they waited for a change of subject, and they both hoped it would change into something a little bit more comfortable. Eventually they broke the awkward silence by chinking glasses again and settling into the comfy sofas. This was the start of something special. Both men knew they had some exciting adventures lined up in their futures; they knew they were in for a crazy roller coaster ride albeit Madrick had no idea what a roller coaster was.

“I think I need some time to myself to reflect on what I’ve heard and to think about what we should do next,” said Michael. “How about we meet up again tomorrow for lunch?”

As a parting gesture, Madrick gave him one of the coins as a reminder that he’d experienced good old, old-fashioned magic. It was a nice gesture which helped reinforce Michael’s belief that these were good guys and he was doing the right thing.

He loved the coin but decided not to keep it. After all there were plenty more where it came from, wherever that was. The important thing was to find out if it was genuine or just a part of an ingenious scam so he dropped into a small jewellery shop he passed as he walked to the station.

The man was totally lethargic about the prospect of yet another lump of gold destined for the big smelting pot, but his attitude changed as soon as he saw the Aethelred. He took it in his hand and fondled it between finger and thumb. He asked where it had come from. Then, before Michael had a chance to answer, he said it didn’t matter. It took all his strength to curb his excitement, but he still offered a thousand pounds because he was determined to have the beautiful coin and he knew it was worth at least twice as much. Michael had no interest in negotiating so he happily accepted. He wasn’t there for the money per se, he was there to find out whether the coin was something special or not. It seemed it was at least a thousand pounds special.

He went home and lay on his settee thinking about the last couple of days. He knew deep down he was already committed to believing in the madness; maybe he should be committed full stop.

Being a born planner, he started to carefully map out in his mind how he and the two travellers could make the most of this strange opportunity. There were so many questions. And should he tell Faith? How would she react to this incredible story? For some reason, he decided against sharing for the time being. Could it be that he was just too embarrassed? If she’d come to him with the same story he’d have labelled her as a total nut job.

Back at the hotel, Madrick and Tung also reflected on their afternoon meeting.

“That went well,” said Madrick. “I reckon we’ve got lots to gain from working together and, probably more importantly, lots to lose if we don’t.”

“Maybe,” said Tung, who was often a bit of a pessimist, particularly when he had a hangover.

“It would be good to have a friend. We’ve done well on our own so far but we both know our luck won’t last forever in this crazy new world. We need help and Michael could definitely help us.”

“You realise he probably thinks we’re a couple of loonies? We might never see him again.”

“I think he’ll be back. I think he believes us.”

“I hope so,” said Tung, “because I sense there’s trouble on the way.”