More Astrantian Tales

© 2006 Ian G. Hobson

Catananche and the Artesian Well

Do you remember the stories of Callistephus, who lived in the enchanted land of Astrantia, where mythical beasts, and witches and warlocks were commonplace? And do you remember his encounter with the villainous Catananche; the creature who was half leopard and half bear? Well, Callistephus was not the only one to have trouble with Catananche, or Catan as he was more often called.

One day, long after Catan had returned to his home in the north of Astrantia and forgotten all about Callistephus, he was asleep beneath a favourite tree at the top of a large rounded hill, when he was rudely awakened by three of his cronies. What are cronies? Well, friends, I suppose; though I wouldn't want friends like these.

One, whose name was Malus, was a wily old jackal; a trickster and a thief, even worse than Catan, and a coward through and through. Another was Cytisus, a golden-haired fox, who might not have been such a bad fellow if he had not made the wrong sort of friends. And the last was Ginkgo Biloba, a large winged lizard-like creature, who could change colour, to blend in with his surroundings, so as to become almost invisible. Ginkgo Biloba was slow on foot and he walked with a twisting motion, with his long snout swinging from side to side. But occasionally, to avoid being left behind, he would flap his great wings and sail above the heads of his companions.

'Catan!' called Malus, the jackal, in his high-pitched voice, as he approached the spot where Catan was sleeping.

'What is it?' asked Catan, sleepily opening one eye. 'Can't you see that I'm resting?'

'Wake up!' replied Malus. 'There is something to the east, something moving across the flatlands. Something or someone is approaching our territory.'

'You mean my territory.' Catan opened his other eye and yawned. 'You forget, I have royal blood, and these lands belong to me¦ Anyway, how big is this¦ something?

'Big enough to be a caravan of merchants, we think,' replied Cytisus, the golden fox. He stopped just short of Catan and scratched his side with a hind leg. He was a little afraid of Catan and didn't like to get too close. Ginkgo Biloba, who was lagging behind, suddenly flapped wings and leapt forward, landing close to Malus.

'Mind those wings of yours, Gink!' exclaimed Malus. 'You almost knocked me over.'

Ginkgo Biloba folded his wings and tasted the air with his long forked tongue. 'If I'd meant to knock you over, he whispered, 'you'd be on your back with your legs in the air.'

'Stop squabbling!' ordered Catan. ''Where is this caravan of merchants?' He got to his feet and stretched and then looked towards the east. It was late in the day and the light was beginning to fade, but in the distance he could just make out a long snake-like shadow making its way south-west. 'You are right, it does look like a caravan,' said Catan. 'And look, they are turning towards that group of trees; probably planning to make camp for the night¦ Quickly, let's go before we loose sight of them in the dark!'

And with that, the four unlikely comrades set off together downhill, with Catananche bounding along, followed by Malus and Cytisus, and with Ginkgo Biloba trailing behind but occasionally flapping his wings and flying ahead.

As darkness descended they lost sight of the travellers and even the small clump of trees, beside which they were camped. But soon they were guided by the light of several campfires and the smell of smoke and the sound of music. As they drew closer, Catan signalled the others to follow as he led them around the camp, so as to approach from behind a thicket of small bushes and brambles. And from there they watched and listened, spellbound by the sight of the strange people within the circle of firelight.

Catan had travelled widely but these strangers were like no others he had ever seen. They were undoubtedly wealthy, as they were dressed from head to foot in garments fashioned from a fine silk-like cloth that shone in the firelight like silver; and men and women alike wore jewelled necklaces and bracelets, and on their fingers were golden rings set with precious stones. And Cytisus was surely right about them being merchants, for they had with them five strange wheeled carriages, long and narrow with handles and ropes for pulling. Three of which were filled with goods covered with more of the silvery fabric. But all this was as nothing compared to the people themselves; for their skin was also a silvery colour and reflected the light even more than their clothes and jewellery did.

Beside one of the fires sat a very beautiful woman. On her head was an interwoven crown of gold and between her feet was a large golden harp, on which she played the most beautiful music that Catan had ever heard. And all around her, her companions - about sixty in all, including several small children - seemed to be dancing as they went about their tasks; adding more wood to the fires; preparing their evening meal; unloading two of the strange wooden carriages; and laying silken cushions in a circle around the beautiful woman who played the harp.

Before long, the woman stopped playing, and her companions, each in turn, starting with the smallest of the children, came and bowed to her before taking their place on the circle of cushions. The woman was obviously their leader, probably their queen, yet strangely it was she that served the food to each of her seated followers, speaking to each in turn, in a language that Catan could not understand.

'Why are we waiting?' Malus whispered to Catan. 'Why don't we eat them and take all their gold and jewels?'

'But there's too many,' said Cytisus. 'Can't we just wait for them to go to sleep? Then we can steal the jewels while they're sleeping.'

'We are outnumbered, but we could easily frighten them away,' whispered Ginkgo Biloba. 'If you three run at them, and I fly at them, and we make a lot of noise, they are sure to run off into the night. Then we can just help ourselves to whatever they leave behind. Some of those long handcarts may be full of treasure.'

But before Catan could reply, the beautiful woman began to play the harp again, only this time as well as playing she sang, not in her own language but in a common language that Catan and his three followers could understand. It was a merry song, and as she sang she seemed to be laughing.

Tonight we have four guests
But our guests are very shy
They hide behind the bushes
I can't help wonder why

One of them is golden
Another one has wings
One has very sharp teeth
But their leader walks with kings

Perhaps they'd like some food and drink
There's plenty here to spare
Whatever they would like
We would be very glad to share

So come three loyal comrades
Come fearsome but kingly beast
We wish to make you welcome
Please come and join our feast

As she finished her song, her followers applauded and laughed. But then all were silent as she stood and held out her hands in a gesture of welcome towards the bushes behind which the four unexpected guests were still hiding.

Catan stood on his hind legs and looked over the top of the bushes. Feeling more than a little foolish. He stuck out his chest, trying to look fearsome but kingly.

'It might be a trick,' warned Ginkgo Biloba. His skin colour suddenly changing so as to blend with the shadows. 'She might be a witch!'

'She doesn't look like a witch,' said Cytisus. 'She is very beautiful.'

'Witches can look any way they like,' said Malus. 'Maybe it's time we left, before she puts a spell on us.'

'Be quiet!' ordered Catan. The words of the song were still going through his mind. 'Walks with kings,' he said. 'Kingly beast¦ She obviously knows about my royal blood.'

'Ha!' said Malus. 'Everyone knows you just made that up,'

'Made it up!' exclaimed Catan, angrily. 'Don't be so insolent.' He swiped Malus across the side of his head, almost knocking him into the brambles, then he dropped back onto all fours and walked, as regally as he knew how, into the circle of firelight and towards the woman and her people.

As he drew closer, he was again taken aback by how unusual they looked. Their skin was so silvery and their eyes so large and round. But he was pleased to see that, at least, the children were afraid of him, as they were all now hiding behind their mothers and fathers. 'You are right to call me kingly,' he said, sticking out his chest. 'I am Prince Catananche, and you are crossing my territory without my permission.'

The woman bowed towards Catan. 'I am sorry, your highness. Please accept my apologies¦ I am Osmunda, queen of Artesia. Perhaps you would like to introduce your friends.'

'They are of no consequence, your highness. Just three of my foot soldiers.' But he waved them forward into the firelight before speaking again. 'Did you say Artesia, your highness?'

'Yes,' replied Osmunda. 'We have been on a pilgrimage to the Falls of Valerian and are returning to our home.'

'Valerian. I know that name,' said Catan. 'But where is Artesia? 'I have never heard of it.'

'A few days travel to the north-west,' answered Osmunda. 'Do you know the river to the west of here?' Catan nodded. 'To the north there is a small tributary. Artesia is close to there.'

'I see,' said Catan, wondering if perhaps he knew the place by another name.

At that moment Malus, still smarting from being cuffed by Catan, said 'Enough talk! If you cross our lands without permission, then you must pay the price.'

'Be quiet,' said Catan, angrily. 'I was just coming to that.'

'And what is the price?' asked Queen Osmunda.

'Well,' replied Catan, 'perhaps some gold or jewels. As you have already guessed, I have royal blood and I like that sort of thing.'

'Of course,' said Osmunda, 'but first you must eat. Please be seated.' Her people brought cushions for their four guests to sit on, and Osmunda served them food from silver platters and wine from silver goblets, and the food and wine was the best that Catan and his followers had ever tasted; and soon they fell asleep.

***

Cytisus was the first to awaken; he had eaten and drank less greedily than his three comrades. He got to his feet and stretched, at first wondering if the previous evening had been nothing but a dream; for the comfortable silken cushions he had been lying on were gone, and there was no sign of the travellers from Artesia. Catan lay on the ground snoring loudly, and beside him were Malus and Ginkgo Biloba. Cytisus approached Catan and nudged him cautiously. 'Wake up Catan, wake up. The queen and her people have gone.'

Catan slowly opened his eyes and looked blearily about. 'Queen? People? What are you talking¦' Suddenly he came to his senses and leapt to his feet. 'Wake up, you fools!' he shouted, 'we've been tricked!' He kicked Malus in the ribs and did the same to Ginkgo Biloba.

'I told you we should have eaten them!' snarled Malus, as he too realised what had happened.

'My head hurts,' complained Ginkgo Biloba. 'I've never drunk wine before.'

'I'll hurt more than your head, Gink, if you don't get up in the air and see if you can see them. They can't have gone far. Cytisus, Malus; start looking for tracks!'

Ginkgo Biloba soon returned from his airborne scouting expedition to report that he could see nothing of the travellers. 'They've completely disappeared,' he said, 'as if by magic. I knew all along that that Osmunda woman was a witch.'

But Malus had picked up a scent and then found a single faint cartwheel track leading north-west. 'Look,' he said, pawing at a groove in the ground left by a cartwheel and then gesturing at the dusty earth around the track which looked as though it had been swept. 'They've been brushing away their tracks to fool us.'

'Then there's no time to loose,' exclaimed Catan. 'Osmunda said that they were returning to their home in the north-west, and that's where this cart track is pointing. Come on!' And with that, Catan and his three cronies set off once more in pursuit of the Artesian travellers, and before long they found more cart tracks, and footprints. But no matter how fast they ran - or flew, in the case of Ginkgo Biloba - they could not catch up, or even catch sight of their quarry.

'I'm tired,' complained Malus, as the sun began to go down. 'Can't we rest?'

'Not till we find them,' replied Catan angrily. He too was tired, and in a foul mood. 'I'm going to tear them all limb from limb, when we catch them.' But soon it became too dark to follow, and the four had to give up their pursuit until morning.

The next day and the next, Catan and the others continued to follow the tracks and footprints left by the Artesians, but not once did they catch sight of them. But then, on the fourth day, they found themselves beside a great river. And to their dismay, here, on a sandy beach, the tracks and footprints vanished, as though the Artesians had pulled their carts straight into the river and swum away with them.

'Gink! Get up in the air,' ordered Catan. 'See what you can see. They can't have just vanished. And, Gink, if you find them, don't let them see you.'

Upstream the river was wide and winding, and the land to either side was heavily forested. So guessing the Artesians had gone this way, and with his skin turned pale-blue to match the sky, Ginkgo Biloba followed its course. And soon he found what he was looking for and returned to Catan and the others. 'They're boats!' he exclaimed, as he glided back onto the sandy beach. 'Boats!'

'Boats?' replied Catan. 'What do you mean they're boats?'

'Those strange looking carts! The travellers have taken the wheels off, and now they're boats, with silken sails; and they're sailing upstream in them!'

'That's it then,' growled Malus. 'We've come all this way for nothing.'

But Catan, who was angrier than he had ever been in his whole life, lashed out at Malus, almost knocking him into the river; and he let out a great roar, that frightened a whole flock of birds from the treetops. 'We follow on foot!' he ordered. 'Gink, fly ahead and act as guide.'

So once more the pursuit continued, with Ginkgo Biloba flying ahead and reporting back to Catan as best he could, for the forest was very thick in places, until finally he saw the Artesians lower their sails and begin to slowly row up a smaller river that flowed into the great one. Fortunately for Catan and his cronies, this tributary was on the same side of the main river as they were, and soon they drew nearer to the boats and caught glimpses of them through the trees. And at last, as they overtook the boats to look for a good place for an ambush, they saw to their surprise that the tributary came to an abrupt end.

'How odd,' remarked Cytisus, as he peered from behind a tree. 'This little river is still quite wide and yet here it ends¦ or begins, because the water seems to flow up from out of the ground.' And Cytisus was quite right, for the water did indeed well up from a huge cavity in the ground. In fact, what they were looking at was an artesian well.

'Hide,' whispered Catan, as Ginkgo Biloba who had landed in a clear space in the trees came up behind him. 'Keep out of sight. The travellers are coming, and when they row to the shore we will have them.'

And, soon enough the travellers arrived, rowing five sleek looking boats with tall masts, and in the lead boat was Queen Osmunda. But instead of rowing the boats ashore, they turned each one until they formed a circle. And then, one by one, every man, woman and child dived laughing from the boats and disappeared beneath the surface of the clear waters of the artesian well, until only Queen Osmunda remained, standing in the prow of her boat. Then, as a shaft of sunlight caught her face and arms, revealing the almost scale-like texture of her silvery skin, she turned to look directly into Catan's eyes as he peered angrily over the top of a fallen tree.

'Goodbye, my dear prince,' she said, in a clear voice that carried across the water. 'Where we go now you cannot follow. For we are the people of Artesia and we live beneath the waters. Goodbye and good hunting.' And with that, she dived into the water and was gone. And as the boats began to drift downstream, a mist emerged from the far shoreline and enveloped them, and they too were gone, leaving the four tired and unhappy hunters to a long journey home.

***

You don't have to live in Astrantia to visit an artesian well. But if you do visit one, don't dive too deeply or you might discover too many of its secrets.

Asperula's Rainbow

It was a typical Astrantian afternoon, with warm sunshine and not a cloud in the sky; and Asperula was sitting in her garden reading. As you may recall from earlier stories, Asperula was a witch, and what she was reading was an old book of magic spells that she'd forgotten about and then rediscovered when if fell from a shelf as she dusted it.

The spell book had proved very useful. Asperula had deciphered some of the ancient writings and discovered spells to cure everything from toothaches to in-growing toenails, and from hiccups to spotty faces. She had found spells to mend leaky roofs and straighten crooked chimneys, and to chop fallen trees into firewood, and even to turn weeds into flowers. So her cottage was looking much smarter than it ever had before, and her garden was the best in the whole village.

'Rap, Rap, Rap! Visitor!' announced the shinny doorknocker on her front door. The doorknocker was, of course, a magic one, and it had become very good at predicting exactly when someone would arrive, even before it could see them coming. And sure enough, as Asperula looked up from her book, Thymus the cat sprang up onto the garden gate and then dropped down onto the garden path. He was on his way home after visiting his friend Luzula in the village, and having heard about Asperula's beautiful new garden, he'd come to take a look.

'Shoo!' exclaimed Asperula, as Thymus approached. 'I don't have black cats in my garden; they're bad luck. Now shoo, before I turn you into a goat!'

Thymus stopped and sat down to lick at each of his hind legs in turn. He wasn't the least bit afraid of Asperula. He lived in the old tower, across the river, with Holcus the warlock and knew almost as much about magic as Asperula did.

'If you turn me into a goat, I'll charge at you,' he said, interrupting his grooming and looking around. 'And I'll eat your flowers.' Then he noticed the book that Asperula held in her hand. There was a face on the front cover; an unsmiling but familiar looking face. 'Doesn't that book belong to Holcus?' he asked. 'It looks like one of his.'

Asperula thought for a moment; she had completely forgotten that the book had once belonged to Holcus. Then she remembered that Holcus had thrown the book at her after they had argued over something; they were not exactly the best of friends. 'It might do,' she replied, 'but that's none of your business. Now shoo!'

'Very well,' said Thymus, turning back towards the gate. 'I know when I'm not welcome.'

Asperula returned to reading her spell book, but just as Thymus leaped back onto the gate, she looked up and said 'Wait¦ Does Holcus ever travel by rainbow?'

Balancing easily on the top of the gate, Thymus turned back to face Asperula. 'Travel by rainbow?' he repeated, looking puzzled. But then he remembered hearing something about witches riding rainbows as an alternative to broomsticks. 'No, I don't think so, but he never goes anywhere these days anyway. Why do you ask?'

'Never mind,' replied Asperula, returning to her book.

'Ah, I see,' said Thymus. 'You've found something in the spell book about rainbow-riding. Well, you'd have to find a rainbow first. I can't remember the last time I saw one¦ Perhaps you should start by making it rain.' And with that, he turned and dropped down the outside of the gate and was gone.

'Making it rain,' said Asperula. 'What nonsense.' But then she looked up from her book with the beginnings of a smile on her face. Since finding the rainbow-riding spell she had felt a surprising urge to try it out, perhaps because she remembered stories of her great-grandmother travelling that way. But rainbows needed summer rain-showers; a rarity in Astrantia. So there was little chance of her doing so, unless: if she could find a spell to make it rain enough for a rainbow, then maybe she could give it a try. Perhaps a black cat in the garden was not such bad luck after all.

For the rest of the afternoon, Asperula studied the spell book, struggling with some of the ancient writings, until finally, on the very last page, she discovered what she was looking for: spells for making rain. One was for storms, with thunder and lightening, and one was for night-time rain, for people who wanted their gardens watering but didn't want to get wet. Then she found just the one she wanted: a magic spell to make long summer showers, complete with rainbows. And she began preparations for trying it out on the very next day. She stoked the fire under her cauldron and danced around it, throwing wild flowers and herbs into the boiling liquid, and chanting:

First Hog Weed and Borage
Go into the pot
(I must get some more
Because I use them a lot)

Then Hawk Weed, for Orange
And Curds Dart for Blue
And King Cup for yellow
What a colourful brew

Now, Hair Grass for indigo
Hart's-tongue for green
And a sprig of fresh nettle
To keep the pot clean

That leaves Columbine for Violet
And Poppy for red
Give a really good stir, and
Then straight off to bed

And so off to bed she went, leaving the window open so that the steam from the simmering cauldron could make its way out into the night air where it could do its magic. And sure enough, when Asperula awoke in the morning, there were clouds gathering in the sky. So she dressed and put on her best apron and best black cloak, and carrying the old spell book, she set off towards the river where most of the clouds had assembled.

***

Thymus slipped in through the cat-flap in the back door of the old tower. The tower was more like a house really, as over the years, a roof and a chimney, and doors and windows, had been added. He padded across the stone floor of the kitchen towards the staircase. The kitchen was circular in shape, as was the tower itself, and the staircase ran around the wall in a spiral and led to the circular living room above and then on to the circular bedrooms above that. There was even a circular dungeon below, as the tower had once been part of a castle, most of which had crumbled and fallen.

'Hello,' said Holcus, sleepily, when Thymus appeared at the top step of the first floor and padded across the room towards him. 'Been out all night?' The warlock, wearing an old grey dressing gown, was sitting in semi-darkness in his favourite chair beside a huge fireplace. The sunlight that filtered through a large curtained window showed that he was old and thin in the face, and his hair was grey and straggly, but there was a proud, intelligent look in his eyes. He reached down and stroked Thymus who lifted his tail and arched his back and purred.

'No, I've not been out all night,' Thymus replied. 'But I woke early, so I thought I'd go out and see what the weather was doing.'

Holcus laughed at this. 'I could have told you that without going outside,' he said. 'The sun is shining and the weather's set fair, as always.' He reached for the crook that was leaning against his chair, and gave one sharp tap on the floor with it, and the curtains opened to reveal a lovely view of the fields and river but with rain clouds not far away.

'Not quite, you see,' said Thymus. 'The sun is shining, but there are some thick black clouds out there and it looks likely to rain.' He had an idea he knew why, but decided to say nothing to Holcus. He took his usual place on the rug in front of the fireplace. The fire was not lit, as it was the middle of summer, but at other times of the year, in front of the roaring log fire was one of Thymus's favourite places to be.

***

With the sun behind her and feeling very pleased with herself, Asperula made her way across the fields towards the gathering clouds. Hanging from a gold chain around her neck was her talisman, a jet-black stone from the middle of a shooting star. The talisman was relatively new and it had taken time for Asperula to get used to it, but gradually it began to yield its magic and slowly it had enhanced Asperula's powers and increased her understanding of spells like the one she was planning to use to ride a rainbow.

Rainbow-riding, as practised by witches since the beginning of time, is a novel way of getting from one place to another. It's especially useful for getting over obstacles like fast flowing rivers or for simply getting from one side of a valley to the other. Though many witches think it a ridiculous way to travel because, firstly you have to find a rainbow, and secondly you have to get to it - which isn't as easy as it sounds because rainbows do have this habit of moving away as you approach them - and thirdly, the other end of the rainbow has to be in the place you want to get to. So mostly it's just done for enjoyment ' a joyride, in fact ' or sometimes just to show off.

Asperula hurried along, with a spring in her step that she hadn't had for many a year. She even giggled at the thought of riding a rainbow. And suddenly ahead, as the clouds began to shed their rain, there it was: a beautiful rainbow, with all the usual colours ' red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet ' arcing across the sky and reaching over the fields and across the river.

Asperula opened her spell book at the right page and referred to the text. She knew that the first step was to make the rainbow keep still while she made her way to it. As she walked on, she read aloud the magic words, but the clouds and the rainbow seemed to drift away as though pulled by the river as it meandered downstream. Asperula clutched her talisman and repeated the words, over and over, and at last found that she was getting closer and closer to the rainbow. But she was also beginning to get quite wet so, as she walked on, she tore a bright green bracken stem from the ground and uttered more words of magic and immediately the bracken stem turned into an umbrella which she held aloft to keep from getting wetter.

Once more she referred to the book of spells before dropping it into her apron pocket, and with talisman in one hand and umbrella in the other, she reached the rainbow and stepped into its brilliance, reciting the rainbow-riding spell. For a moment nothing happened, then with an exhilarating whoosh, she was carried away, spiralling head first and with her black cloak flapping behind her, up into the rainbow's colourful core - but a little faster than she had expected for, almost immediately, the umbrella closed about her head and she couldn't see a thing.

'Get off me!' she cried, as he fought with the umbrella, finally flinging it aside and letting it fall. Now she could see, and what an amazing site it was too: she was surrounded by colour and yet, through it, she could see the greenery of the surrounding countryside and the sparkling blue river below and the charcoal-grey rain-cloud above. And then she crested the top of the rainbow and began to descend, shrieking with laughter, and still spiralling headfirst, and having the ride of her life.

Anyone watching would have been quite amazed, for this was most unlike Asperula. But this was where things began to go wrong. The rainbow had obligingly kept still at one end while Asperula stepped inside it, but all the while the other end had continued to drift, swinging ever nearer to the old tower across the river. And as Asperula neared the end of her ride she saw with horror that she was not going to have the soft grassy landing that she had expected.

***

Both Thymus and Holcus had fallen asleep beside the fireplace as they quite often did, regardless of the time of day. But when a tremendous crashing noise came echoing down the chimney, they both awoke with a start. In fact Thymus, who was closest to the fireplace, was so startled that he shot up into the air and across the room as though someone had just stamped on his tail. And lucky he did because a great fall of soot came tumbling down and landed in the fireplace, before issuing a sooty black cloud into the room.

'Lightening!' exclaimed Holcus, as coughing, and choking, and blinking the soot from his eyes, he got to his feet. 'We've been struck by lightening!' But just then there was another crashing sound and more soot came down the chimney followed by a huge bat-like creature that Holcus thought must be some kind of demon. It was as black as night and as it landed headfirst, in the fireplace, it wailed like a banshee and clawed at the hearth with its scrawny talons, and its two pale eyes flashed with a terrible malevolence.

'Be gone, you evil spirit, you incubus, you demon of the night!' cried Holcus, as he peered at the creature through the soot-filled air. 'How dare you come down my chimney, unannounced? Be gone!'

Covered in soot and looking quite demon-like himself, Holcus reached for his magic crook and pointed it at the terrible intruder. In his younger days he would have instantly remembered the correct magic spells to ward off such an evil creature and send it on its way, but his memory was not what it used to be. But as he tried to remember the words, the creature got to its feet and, trailing its great black wings and more clouds of soot, it fled across the room and sped down the staircase and left the house by the kitchen door.

Thymus jumped up onto the windowsill and peered out. The garden and the adjacent fields were in shade, as a large black cloud hung overhead, and the ground was wet from recent rain. But almost immediately, as Asperula, with sooty hair and a torn black cloak, hurried away from the tower, the clouds vanished and the sun shone once more.

'Bless me,' exclaimed Holcus, as he reached into the fireplace and lifted something from the soot-filled hearth. 'How ever did you get up the chimney?' He blew the soot from the old spell book, and watched as the face on the front cover began to smile at him. The spell book was glad to be back with its master.

***

So, next time you see a rainbow, look carefully; there probably won't be a witch riding inside it ' but you never know.

The Wishing Cave

It was a very hot day in the part of Astrantia where Luzula lived. She was sitting beside the ornamental pond in her mother's garden. It was just a small pond with a single water lily and two goldfish, and sitting around it were three stout little garden gnomes, all dressed in red suits and hats, and shiny black boots, and each with a long white beard. They had been there in the garden since long before Luzula was born, and she was very fond of them and would often sit and talk to them, just as she did to her dolls.

'It's so hot today,' she said, pushing back several long strands of dark hair from her forehead, 'even with my parasol.' Luzula had found a bright green parasol lying across the footpath beside the river. It was rather a large parasol, especially for Luzula as she was only eight years old, but it held back the heat of the sun very well indeed. 'Are you hot, Fisherman?' she asked.

The gnome she called Fisherman sat on the edge of the pond and held a fishing rod. The other two gnomes were amongst the flowers, one carrying a lantern and sitting on a wooden toadstool, and the other, with a pickaxe tucked into his belt, sitting on a rock. Luzula always thought the one with the pickaxe looked a bit grumpy.

Suddenly one of the goldfish leapt out of the water and returned with a splash, and as ripples quickly reached the edge of the pond, Luzula noticed, for the first time, that the water level was very low, and that the water was looking rather murky.

'Hello,' said a very familiar voice. Luzula's mother, Caltha, had just returned home carrying two heavy wooden buckets; both full of water. 'I had to go all the way to the river for these,' she said. She set down the two buckets and rubbed the small of her back. 'All the village wells have run dry. That's never happened before. I don't know what it can mean.'

'Can I put some water in the pond?' Luzula asked, folding her parasol and then trying to lift one of the buckets, but it was too heavy for her.

'Good heavens, no!' replied Caltha. 'Not if I have to go to the river for it. Perhaps the wells will have water again tomorrow; then we can bring some for the pond.' She lifted the two heavy buckets and walked off towards her cottage, soon followed by Luzula.

***

As the sun went down, the day cooled and darkness descended. But soon Hesperis, Astrantia's pale pink moon, rose into the sky, giving enough light for creatures of the night to go about their business. A hedgehog stopped beside the pond and lapped up a little water before moving off in search of slugs and snails to eat, and nearby an owl hooted. And then three other nocturnal inhabitants began to move.

'Could be serious,' said Gromwell, sliding off his toadstool and setting down his lantern. 'If there's not enough water for the pond and it dries up¦ well¦ it won't be the same without the pond, will it?'

'Your right there,' replied Willowherb. He adjusted the pickaxe in his belt and then stood up from the rock he'd been sitting on all day and rubbed his bottom. 'By heck, my bum's numb tonight.'

Fisherman, whose real name was Sedum, lay down his rod and got to his feet and walked around the pond towards Gromwell. 'Be worse for the fish though¦ if there's no water.'

'As if you care!' exclaimed Willowherb, as he joined his two companions. 'You've been trying to catch 'em since they were just tiddlers.'

'I don't mean 'em no harm,' replied Sedum. 'It's not as if I have any bait on my hook.'

'Now don't start that argument again,' said Gromwell with a grimace. 'I've heard it too many times already¦ Now listen¦ what's happened to the village wells; that's what I want to know. I hope it's not the prophecy.'

'Prophecy?' replied Willowherb. 'I've heard of no prophesy.'

'You have,' said Gromwell. 'You must have. There's a little rhyme about it. Don't you remember? It goes, err¦ oh, yes, it goes:
'If the wells run dry
The village will die
The houses will crumble
And the children will cry

If the wells run dry
We'll turn to dust
And be blown away
With the wind's first gust

If the well runs dry¦ oh¦ I can't remember the rest of it¦ Something about fire and dragons and such.'

'Sounds like just another old wife's tale, to me,' said Willowherb. 'And there's no such thing as dragons.'

'Maybe not,' said Sedum, lifting his chin and scratching under his beard. 'But I remember hearing that rhyme, and it definitely was a prophesy; though I'm not sure about the dragon bit. I think somebody just added that to frighten the children.'

'So what should we do about it?' said Gromwell.

'What, the dragon?' asked Willowherb, looking puzzled.

'No, not the dragon, the wells!' exclaimed Gromwell. 'We should try and do something about the wells.'

'But what can we do?' replied Willowherb, standing defiantly with his feet apart and his hands on the head of his pickaxe. 'We're just three garden gnomes. If the wells run dry, they run dry. There's nothing we can do about it.'

'We could go take a look,' suggested Sedum. 'As long as were back by morning we'll not be missed.'

'You mean go take a look down one of the wells?' exclaimed Willowherb. 'But wells are very dark, and we might fall in and never be seen again.'

'Oh, don't be such a wimp, Willowherb,' said Gromwell, reaching for his lantern and giving it a shake. 'There's plenty of oil in my lamp to see by. Where's your spirit of adventure?'

***

'It looks an awful long way down,' observed Willowherb. 'And very dark too.' The three gnomes had walked to the nearest well and climbed up onto its circular wall and were looking down into the well-shaft.

'But we're used to the dark, aren't we?' said Sedum. 'And Gromwell's got his lamp. And look; we can go down in this bucket.'

There was a large wooden bucket standing on the wall, and the bucket was attached to a long rope that hung from a beam that was held up high over the well by a wooden framework. The rope was wound around the beam many times and on the end of the beam was a crank-handle for winding the bucket up and down.

'But none of us can reach the handle,' protested Willowherb. 'So who would do the lowering?'

'What if we send the bucket down by itself?' suggested Sedum. 'Then we could climb down the rope.'

'Good idea,' said Gromwell. 'Let's give it a push.' So Gromwell and Sedum leant against the bucket and pushed, but it was too heavy and hardly moved. 'Give us a hand, Willowherb,' said Gromwell. So all three gnomes pushed together, as hard as they could, and this time the bucket went rapidly over the edge. In fact, too rapidly, as both Gromwell and Willowherb lost their balance and fell over the edge of the well.

Fortunately Gromwell fell into the bucket, and Willowherb had time to grab the rope before the bucket swung away from the wall and began to descend. 'Wait for me!' shouted Sedum, as he leaped off the wall and grabbed for the rope as the bucket swung back towards him. And so, with Gromwell in the bottom of the bucket, and Willowherb and Sedum clinging to the rope, and the rope beam and the crank-handle spinning ever faster, they made their decent.

Suddenly the bucket jolted to a stop and then bounced on the end of the rope, as there was no more of it left to unwind, and Willowherb and Sedum lost their grip and fell feet first into the bucket. Willowherb landed on top of Gromwell, and Sedum landed on top Willowherb. But before they had chance to recover, the bucket began to fall again before coming to another abrupt stop as it hit the stony bottom of the well. And it was soon followed by a long length of the rope, which had snapped somewhere above them.

'That was fun,' said Sedum, who was sitting on top of the other two gnomes with his hat down over his eyes. 'You were right about it being dark though, Willowherb.'

'Fun?' exclaimed Willowherb. 'I'll give you fun. How would you like a bash over the head with my axe? You nearly broke my neck.'

'Now stop that,' said a muffled voice from underneath. 'I hope my lamp's not broken. Can you both get off me please?'

'Gladly,' replied Willowherb, as he squeezed out from underneath Sedum and then found himself tangled in the length of rope. 'And then you can have a bash over the head as well. You know what's happened, don't you? The rope's broken; and now we'll never get out of here alive.'

'Oh be quiet,' said Sedum. 'We can always climb up a rope from one of the other wells; they'll all be connected to this one... Oh, look.' Sedum had pushed his hat back out of his eyes and was looking straight up the well shaft. 'I can see the stars and Hesperis.' The pale pink globe of Hesperis was shining straight down the well.

***

'Now I see what the problem is,' said Gromwell, holding up his lamp. The three gnomes had made their way along a long winding tunnel, splashing through a few shallow puddles as they went. Gromwell had lit his lamp so that they could see, but every now and then they passed under another well shaft where the rocky floor of the tunnel was lit by moonlight from above. Sedum had been right about the village wells all being connected. Finally they came to an old disused well that had collapsed and completely blocked the tunnel.

'All we have to do,' continued Gromwell, standing in a tiny stream of water that trickled out from under the blockage, 'is shift this pile of stones so that the water can flow through again.'

'Oh, is that all?' said Willowherb. 'I was worried it might be something needing hard work. But just moving a pile of stones, each of which weigh more than we do; that should be easy shouldn't it? So I think I'll sit over here while you two get on with it.'

'But you're the one with the pickaxe,' observed Sedum.

'Oh, so I am,' said Willowherb, 'I was wondering when that would get a mention. Here.' He pulled the pickaxe from his belt and handed it to Sedum. 'You take it. Be my guest.' And with that he sat down on a stone beside the wall of the tunnel and folded his arms.

'Very well,' said Sedum. 'I know how to use a pick.' He took a step towards the wall of stones that blocked the tunnel and took a swing at one of them. A few sparks flew off but very little else happened. So he tried again and again, and then Gromwell tried, but he too made only the slightest dent in one or two of the stones.

'Oh, give it back to me!' exclaimed Willowherb, as he got to his feet. 'Don't you two know anything? You need to start higher up, not at the bottom. And you need a bit of leverage. Hold your lamp a bit higher, Gromwell.' He stuck the pickaxe into a crack beside a stone that looked as though it might easily fall out by itself, and then, with all his might, he pulled on the handle until the stone came free. 'Now we're getting somewhere,' he said.

He did the same again with another stone and then another, and then he leapt aside as a really big stone fell from above where he had just made a hole. But then things began to happen faster than Willowherb had expected. More stones fell away and jets of water began to spurt through the cracks, and then more stones fell away and more water squirted through.

'Do you think it's time we left?' asked Sedum, as a jet of water almost knocked his hat off.

'I think it is,' replied Willowherb, sticking his pickaxe back into his belt. 'In fact, I think we better run. Would you like me to carry the lamp and go first, Gromwell.'

'No, I can manage,' replied Gromwell as he raced off down the tunnel, closely followed by Willowherb and Sedum. Behind them they could hear more rocks tumbling, and there was now a stream at their feet and it was getting deeper and deeper. Soon they passed under the well shafts that they had passed under before, but there were no ropes to climb up. Then eventually they came to the well shaft that they had descended earlier. The bucket was still there but it was beginning to drift away with the ever rising stream of water.

'Grab the rope!' Gromwell shouted. The rope, still attached to the bucket, was trailing behind it and Sedum waded past Gromwell and grabbed the end of it and pulled the bucket towards him. Gromwell caught up and reached out towards the bucket, managing to hold it still while Sedum and then Willowherb climbed in. But the water was still getting deeper and flowing faster, and Gromwell, hampered by his lantern, was unable to do the same.

'Give me the lantern!' shouted Sedum, snatching it from Gromwell's hand. 'Now get in quick!' Gromwell hauled himself over the side and into the bucket, helped by Willowherb who grabbed Gromwell's beard and pulled. And, in a tangle of arms and legs, the three gnomes in a bucket were carried along as the waters increased in speed and rose almost to the roof of the tunnel.

***

'Where are we?' asked Gromwell, feeling very dizzy. For a very long time the three gnomes had been swept along at great speed, and the bucket had bashed into the side of the tunnel several times. But eventually the tunnel had come to an end and the bucket had floated out into the center of a large underground lake.

'I think I'm going to be sick,' complained Willowherb. 'And my boots are full of water.'

'Keep still,' warned Gromwell. 'It's not just our boots that are full of water. I think this bucket's going to sink.'

'We seem to be in a cave,' said Sedum. 'But look, there's a hole in the roof and I can see the stars and Hesperis again!'

'What's that over there at the far side of the cave?' asked Willowherb. 'It looks like an island.'

'It is,' replied Gromwell. 'I wish we could get to it.'

Suddenly the bucket was no longer in the middle of the lake. It was standing on the island with three very confused gnomes inside it. They climbed out and onto dry land. Gromwell walked to the water's edge and looked into the lake. The water was deep but very clear, and in the moonlight he could see the bottom.

'I don't understand,' he said. 'A moment ago we were in the middle of the lake and now we're here on this island. How could that happen?' Then suddenly something made him step back from the water. A dark shape was swimming towards him.

'Because you wished it,' said the dark shape as it broke the surface and swam towards the water's edge. 'Welcome to the Wishing Cave. All who enter are granted one wish.'

'My goodness!' exclaimed Gromwell. 'You are the biggest fish I have ever seen. A hundred times bigger than the ones in our pond.'

'Ah, but I'm not a fish, I'm a dolphin, and my name is Melissani.' The dolphin swam a little closer and then turned aside, showing off her large dorsal fin. 'I live here in the Wishing Cave; when I'm not out in the ocean.'

'I do beg your pardon,' said Gromwell. 'But I've never seen a dolphin before.'

'But how do you get to the ocean,' asked Willowherb. He and Sedum had come closer and were just as amazed as Gromwell by the site of the huge dolphin.

'There's a channel that's connected to the sea,' replied Melissani. 'The water that flows into the cave has to flow out.'

'I see,' said Gromwell.

'Did you say that all who enter are granted a wish?' Sedum asked.

'Yes,' replied Melissani. 'So wish away. It was nice to meet you. Goodbye.' And then, with a flip of her tail, she was gone. For she knew exactly what they would wish for.

'I wish the water in our pond could always be full to the brim with lovely clean water like the water in this lake,' said Sedum.

'A lot of good that will do us,' said Willowherb.

'Well what would you wish for then?' asked Sedum. 'Be careful. We have only one wish left.'

***

Luzula was always up early in the morning. As she stopped beside the pond in her mother's garden to say good morning to the three gnomes, she thought that somehow they all looked just a little different. The grumpy one with the pickaxe in his belt didn't look quite as grumpy, and the one with the lamp seemed to have a very contented expression, and Fisherman somehow looked very pleased with himself. And that was not all: The two goldfish looked very happy indeed and the pond was full to the brim with crystal clear water. And from that day on, it was always so.

***

So, what would you have wished for? (There's no place like home)

***

THE END
(For now)
For the next in the series click:
http://www.abctales.com/story/ian-hobson/astrantian-secrets