Chapter 36

The sound of footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the cave woke him from a less than comfortable night sleep. He found himself blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to the relative gloom of his surroundings and he realised his bad dream made for an even worse reality.

'So you're Chumley?' The unfamiliar woman crouched down next to him and stared at him. 'I was somehow expecting... more. But no matter,' she clicked her fingers and the boy who'd appeared before him in his apartment the night before materialised next to her. 'Taylor, untie him.'

Nodding, he did as he was told.

'Now, fetch him his painting tools,' she shot him a look and again he obeyed. 'Now draw,' she focused her attention on Chumley the second Taylor had brought everything to him.

'Draw, what?' He shook his head in confusion.

'At the moment it doesn't matter. Draw whatever takes your fancy.'

'But why?'

'Because she wants to send it to my father and the others,' Taylor folded his arms, 'to let them know that we're obedient to her now. And also to let them know our mistress has started her recruitment.'

'Recruitment?'

'Just draw.'

Giving a smug half laugh, his mistress rose to her feet, turned and left the room. Once she was gone Taylor took up a guard like position, his gaze uncomfortably focused on Chumley.

'Draw,' he drew out the word with notes of adolescent impatience.

'But what?' He stared down at the paper, pens and paints in front of him.

'It really doesn't matter, but it will be the last thing you do under your own free will, so make it worth something.'

'What?' His eyes flicked back up to Taylor.

'I said draw whatever you want, it doesn't matter.'

'Okay…' he turned his attention back down to the paper.

Picking up one of the pens, he began to lightly sketch something. He wasn't completely sure what it was, but it felt as though it was taking shape of its own accord.

'Why are you obeying her?' There was something strange and almost covert about the sound of Taylor's voice. 'Why aren't you running away?'

'You know, I'm not actually sure.'

'Not sure of what?' This time his voice was rough and almost more of a grunt.

'I'm not sure why I'm not running away.'

'Well that's easy,' Taylor rolled his eyes, 'you felt how strong Arados was and it scared you.'

'Well you asked the question.'

'No I didn't.'

'Yes, you…' he flicked his gaze up to meet with his, but the arrogantly dark look on his face prevented him from arguing further.

Turning his attention back towards his drawing, he continued to shape the strange looking creature he was creating.

'You should run away,' Taylor's voice hissed in his ear, 'you don't want to join her. I know it. You're a good person. You have to run away.'

Nervously he glanced up. His guard was still stood, at least five foot away from him, watching him intensely. There was no way he could be the one whispering in his ear. Thinking he had to be hearing things, he returned his attention to his work.

'Please run away. Please.'

With an edgy feeling moving up and down his spine, he covertly glanced behind him. Nothing.

'Run away, run away, run away, run away,' another voice, just as low as Taylor's had been, chanted the words like some kind of mantra.

'Please, please, please,' a third continued the desperate tones, 'and take us with you.'

'You know we can't go,' Taylor's voice was now filled with sorrow.

'Well maybe not all of us,' the second voice again, 'but you can.'

'I shouldn't.'

'Tay, you have to.'

'Tay, you must and you must make it so we can go too.'

'I can't.'

'Yes you can.'

Now worried he might be going completely mad, he glanced back up towards the real Taylor, as if to make sure he wasn't the one behind it. But he really was just stood there; his gaze remaining as cold and unmoving as when he'd first met him.

'Is there something wrong?' Taylor's tone was as arrogant as the look on his face.

'No,' he shook his head, glancing down at his work.

As he did he suddenly realised what it was he was drawing. It was a dragon, a highly malformed dragon, but a dragon none the less. It was curious though, he'd always prided himself on being a neat and accurate drawer. He never doodled, not even as a kid. So why was he now?

'Tay you have to find a way to do it,' the voices started again.

'I can't!'

'Yes you can; I mean, you were able to do this for us.'

'But I'm not even sure how I did this, you know that.'

'Taylor, please.'

'But what if… I mean, I don't even know if I can do it for myself, never mind the two of you.'

'You have to be able to. Please, just try.'

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in the back of his head, rapidly followed by a second and a third. Gasping loudly, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

'What's wrong with you?' The real Taylor took several steps towards him.

'I'm what's wrong with him,' the words came out automatically and the voice he was using definitely wasn't his own.

'What the hell?'

'I told you,' he rose to his feet against his will, 'I'm what's wrong with him. And me,' his voice changed.

'How?' Taylor's eyes were wide with confusion.

'You know how.'

'No, impossible, I thought I destroyed you pests.'

'Well you were wrong.'

'Nayta, Nayta!' He turned and began making his way deeper into the cave.

'We have to run. Agreed. On the count of three. One. Two. Three!'

Chumley closed his eyes for a second, he head span and when he opened his eyes again he was stood in a rather spacious looking room staring at a rather surprised looking Chazz.

'Don't tell me you're in on this too.'

'What are you doing in my house?' Taylor's voice poured out of his mouth.

'Chumley, are you feeling okay?'

'We can't all fit in here,' a different voice sounded from him, 'it's not working.'

'Chumley?'

There was a sudden, strange release of pressure from within him and Chazz's eyes bulged. After a couple of seconds he blinked strangely.

'This feels weird,' he grinned, his voice perfectly mimicking Taylor's.

'Two in one, is still not right,' Chumley shook his head, still not speaking in a voice of his own.

'You're right,' he nodded, 'but I think I know just what to do.'