Magic Parcel by Frank English Page A

utter terror, finally tore themselves away from the spot to which they had been rooted, mesmerised, and turned to flee. They were again stopped in their tracks, as hoards of Senti seemed to grow out of their surroundings to cut off their retreat. They were trapped! Those sightless faces, eager for a capture to return to their master, swarmed over the intervening swathes of land with unerring accuracy towards their goal.

Chapter Ten
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    The room was dim, and the occupants indistinct in the gloom. A thick, musty, damp smell hung in the still atmosphere inside, making it difficult for all, but those used to it, to breathe without gasping. Streamers of watery light crawled through several small cracks in the reed walls, casting an eerie light across the room.
    An overwhelming silence gripped everyone there, trying to choke the mind as the atmosphere tried to choke the body. The only sound to be heard was the heavy grunting and moaning of someone engaged in intense physical combat, although no other movement could be seen.
    Gradually the eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, and as they fought their way around this enormous enclosure, they were finally drawn to a dark, bearded, solitary figure in an enormous heavily-cushioned wicker chair which was set on a small platform. The occupant of the chair sat perfectly still but in a strange way that looked most uncomfortable. Hands on knees, shoulders bent slightly forwards and very straight, his eyes were tight shut. More and more frequently his silhouette, his whole outline, was lit by some deep power.
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    A flash! The hair and face became wreathed in intense blue light, giving a profoundly sinister look to the strange being, and at the same time, his breath shortened and began to escape in great gasps.
    The suddenness of the ensuing explosions and flashes of lightening took everyone off guard, except for the central figure. The light disappeared totally, to be replaced immediately by dancing, red lines of electric power which wove and jerked around him.
    Silence once again enveloped them, to be broken only by the central figure, the Chieftain of All Omni. With a cackle which grew into a low rumbling laugh, he flung his arms wide, and as he did so, light slowly began to stream into the room from every conceivable angle, filling all space like a great glass bowl with pure, white light.
    â€œI have you now, my friend,” the Chieftain muttered to the air. His mental struggle with the Lord of Sorcery was over and he had proved to be the Master. The Chieftain’s hour was fast approaching, and Seth’s trough of despair would follow in its wake. Seth had finally met his match!
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    Boom! Boom! The distant roll of thunderous drums mingled terrifyingly with the screech of the Sesqui-senti as they swamped the land around the boys with the presence of their master. Taking courage and survival in both hands, the brothers flattened the leading bunch with half-branches torn from sapling trees. Bolstered by their success with the first few, they stood back-to-back bracing themselves for the next onslaught. When they saw the extent of the mass of Senti, they began to despair.
    â€œWe can never beat off that lot!” yelled Jimmy, arms aching already with the exertion.
    â€œCome on!” Tommy signalled. “Up into this tree. The branches are low enough.”
    Tommy heaved his brother into the lower branches and twigs whilst kicking over one of the attacking creatures that came too close. Jimmy scrambled further into the safety of the dense foliage, but Tommy was just a little too long in swinging up. As Jimmy looked down, he was horrified to see his brother washed over by a great wave of white bodies and dragged down by the sheer size of numbers.
    â€œGet back! Get on up before ...” Tommy yelled, but was cut off in mid-sentence.
    It was a terrible dilemma Jimmy found himself in. If he went back to help, what use could he be against so many? Yet, how could he